“Actually,” Deckard replied calmly and lifted the orders between him and Rand, “if you read this, sir, you’ll note that it clearly states we are to report to King Ephren alone. It further states that no one in the Ephrian Army is to detain us or impede our mission. As such, I’d be happy to acquiesce to your command, General, should His Majesty wish to induct you into our mission. Until such a time, I’m afraid we must be going. The king will expect our report.”
Rand ripped the orders from Deckard’s hand and began perusing them. Fiercely, his eyes scanned the lines.
“Unless,” Evylin chimed in as he read, “you’d care to test His Majesty’s leniency. I’ll admit—” Her brow lifted with a menacing tilt, “I have wished for your demise after your attempted murder of my husband.”
Rand unfolded the orders with a dismissive glare in her direction. At their side, Druan pursed his lips, staying silent toavoid incurring Rand’s wrath. And behind them, their friends bore up, hands on their weapons and shoulders drawn back. A display of force with the king’s blessing upon them.
A low growl rumbled in the general’s throat as he read the orders. Deckard knew those pages were the only thing keeping Rand from finding some horrendous punishment for them all. These were his barracks. And they were insulting him in front of his men. After all his time under Rand’s command and with Hewitt’s insight, Deckard had come to understand that Rand only prized one thing in this world: respect. He mostly demanded it through fear, making him almost universally disliked. But he came from wealth and status that made him impossible to depose...for now.
Deckard couldn’t help thinking that one of the better changes the Alliance could make was replacing General Rand as the head of the military. Though Commander Estham, whom they’d met at King Ephren’s Annaltide celebration, was the official military leader, he dealt with the administrative and political aspects of the job. It was Rand who oversaw the day-to-day activities and the actual training of the soldiers. He was the one who trulyranthe Ephrian Army.
One day soon, that would change.
Snarling, Rand shoved the orders back at Deckard. “Go then,” he said.
Deckard gave him a polite bow, tucked the orders into his coat, and turned away. Evylin smiled at Druan and tossed General Rand a mocking salute. After taking his and Evylin’s saddlebags from Thom, Deckard led his troop to the main gate, leaving the general and his lackeys behind. He once belonged to this barracks. It had been his duty to serve men like General Rand unquestioningly. Last time, he’d allowed that duty to bully him into blindly accepting a reassignment to Ostwatch just before the king saved him from that fate.
Now, he walked from the courtyard into Loclight proper, knowing that he was no longer a true soldier of the Ephrian Army. Though he remained undecided about his place among the Alliance, he refused to serve men like Rand anymore. Nor would he support men like King Ephren as his monarch. He was tired of watching the world fall into the hands of corrupt and ignoble men. They were the sort that knights like Sergus fought to unseat a millennium ago.
Perhaps Deckard could never be Sergus, but he’d be damned if he didn’t do what he could to uphold the principles he knew to be right.
“Is the general always so pleasant?” Ilain asked suddenly. “Or are you just special?”
Exchanging a look with Thom while they made their way down the street, Deckard fought down a scoff. “General Rand doesn’t like most people,” he explained. “I don’t think I’m a special case.”
“He was always pleasant to me,” Thom said. He nudged Evylin’s side. “I like to think I impressed him.”
“Or he saw himself in you,” Ethenn remarked dryly.
The unexpected snark drew laughter out of them all. Even Thom grinned despite himself.
“Particularly cutting remark, kid,” Rafferty said, patting him on the back. “I feel like a proud father.”
Ethenn eyed him dubiously. “I’d be profoundly embarrassed to be your son.”
“Oh-ho!” he sniggered. “I think your time with the Lady Flame has been a bad influence.”
Thom tossed a smirk over his shoulder. “Ilain does have a way of corrupting people,” he sniped.
Ilain’s gaze flickered dangerously. “You had your shot at my corruption,” she said. “It isn’t my fault you weren’t magical enough to tempt me.”
“Magic had nothing to do with it,” Auden said lightly. “I seem to remember some clandestine comment of yours about the impeccable shape of Corporal Loxley’s—”
“If you utter one more syllable,” Ilain interjected, “I will burn every inch of your body and make you heal the scars yourself.”
Auden frowned playfully. “It’s my birthday tomorrow,” he lamented. “I get a free pass just this once.”
As laughter filled the air again and the Day Mage received warm wishes, Deckard couldn’t help but smile. He’d come to cherish the camaraderie among their group. Their prolonged stay in Wauld had been filled with grief, hurt, and anger, making these fleeting moments of joy and togetherness feel hard-won. But they’d become a family in their time traveling with the Calders. It was strange and unexpected. From the moment he’d met the Mages, Deckard had been wary of them. And yet, now he thought he understood why Evylin and Thom were so trusting of them. The Calders were more than their traveling companions. They’d become friends and mentors. In Ethenn’s case, one became a lover. They belonged now as surely as any of the Ephrians.
Nearing their home, Deckard felt a buzz of happiness coming from Evylin. Her hand slipped into the crook of his elbow. She drifted closer, eyes on the buildings around them. Just over two months ago, they’d walked this very path. So much had changed. So much remained the same. And while Deckard wished they hadn’t had to undergo all the trials they faced, he wouldn’t exchange their lives for any other.
Three-story, stone-faced townhomes lined the streets as they made their way to number thirty-two. Though the interior would be austere and dusty, Deckard’s heart filled with anticipation. His muscles eased, and his heart warmed. He was home with his wife and his brother at his side.
It could only be better if Hewitt were with them, hale and whole.
As they strode to the door, their trio of Alliance comrades hurried over from the tavern across the street. In the heart of the city where the majority of the officers lived, there were abundant taverns to frequent, kick back, and forget the rigors of army life.
“This is your house?” Brea asked Thom, a hint of wonder in her tone as she surveyed the façade.
